


Get Out of My Head

by artisticOptimism



Category: BBC Sherlock, Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, Mind Palace, POV Sherlock Holmes, Post-The Sign of Three, Season/Series 03 Spoilers, Sherlocked
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-11
Updated: 2014-01-11
Packaged: 2018-01-08 09:20:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1130897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artisticOptimism/pseuds/artisticOptimism
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>~~"I only met you once, then beat you, then saved you from certain death, and I haven’t seen or contacted you since, so why must you linger? Irene Adler, why won’t you get out of my head?”~~~</p><p>Sherlock has had multiple instances where Irene Adler has appeared in front of him in his mind palace, and they keep becoming more and more frequent. He can't force her out, and it's driving him absolutely mad.</p><p>Contains spoilers for Series Three of Sherlock.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Get Out of My Head

**Author's Note:**

> Wow, looks like I have a thing with characters and mental moments involving other characters. XD Never noticed that before. Anyways, the moment in "The Sign Of Three" where Irene made a brief appearance made me think of writing this. (That moment made me very happy, by the way. I love Irene. <3)

         The Woman. Irene Adler. Both of those phrases mean more than you would think. Saying or thinking either one of them is like pulling a trigger on a revolver. It goes off with a bang, echoes a bit, and if anyone is within earshot, they appear as if the noise had called them, wondering what was shot. It doesn’t matter what else I’m thinking. As soon as I refer to her, she hears the shot. She runs through the halls of my mind palace, and appears in front of me, as naked as the day I met her. Every time this happens, I ask her to leave. Sometimes she obliges, but other times she decides to be stubborn. During those periods of time, she just stands there, gazing at me and caressing my face. I can do nothing to stop her when I can’t make her leave. I am powerless against her.

         I don’t know how she got in. I don’t know how she always manages to stay. I hate not knowing. Nobody comes into my mind palace unless I open the doors for them. Mycroft has always been there. He was there when it was simply a little mind hut. He helped me to build it up into the palace it is today. It sometimes is bothersome when he’s constantly in my head, prattling on about something I don’t want to hear. But, put up with him. I let John in as soon as he became my assistant. He stands beside me sometimes when I search for pieces of information I need, occasionally pointing out something I would have just missed if he hadn’t noticed it, and other times, his voice echoes through the halls. “Show-off.” “You forgot to turn your collar up.” Mostly teasing banter such as that. Once again, I put up with it. He is my only real friend. I suppose he has the right to say such things about me when I constantly insult his intelligence (despite all of the insults being the truth). There are others I’ll let in on occasion, if I think they will be helpful, but you will rarely ever see a woman in my mind palace for long. Molly Hooper darts in and out on occasion, Mrs. Hudson has appeared once or twice, and Mary, John’s wife, is now allowed in as well. But none of these women stay. None except for The Woman.

         Her sudden appearances have occurred more often lately. There have been significant, steady increases in both sudden appearances in front of me as well as refusal to leave since the first time she showed up during a case. Granted, it wasn’t what one might consider a proper case, as I didn’t meet any of the clients in person, but it was still a case, and an interesting one at that. To an outside viewer, it took place in chat rooms. To me, every client was standing in front of me in my mind palace so that I could interview them more personally. John’s middle name was mentioned, and my train of thought ended up driving straight into a memory of The Woman. She had gotten John to say his middle name only a short while after meeting him, while I pressed for ages, and only finally discovered it once I rooted around and found his birth certificate. Once that memory had been exited, there she was in front of me, running her finger languorously down my cheek. For a moment, I couldn’t move. I found myself captivated by this woman that could appear in my mind palace any time I thought of her- almost as captivated as she was by me. When I finally snapped back to reality, I tried my best to look disgusted, and in a way, I was. She was interrupting my case, and no matter how fascinating and terrifying it was that she was able to temporarily stop all thoughts of mine to appear, it was not appreciated. “Get out of my head, I’m busy.” Luckily, she vanished that time.

         Today, I don’t seem so lucky. John is off with Mary on his honeymoon, and Mrs. Hudson only comes occasionally to check on me. I am alone and bored, and it seems that no matter how many times I try to venture into my mind palace, I cannot avoid her. She’s always there. It’s terribly frustrating. Why can’t I get into my own mind palace without an irremovable intruder showing up? I hate not knowing the answers to things, and this burning question is no different from the rest and possibly even more personal than the rest. My mind palace is the foundation from which I construct my life. One could even go so far as to say that it is my life. Without my mind, I am nothing, and if I do not know every corner of my own mind, it may drive me into madness. I have to get rid of The Woman.

         I am in the world of my thoughts, and once again, she is there in every room and every hallway, running through my mind. I cannot find a room where she is not there. If I can’t get her out of my head that way, I have to confront her. I so wish I didn’t have to do that. She has the ability to put me in a temporary mental trance. I can’t get rid of her in that state, but there is nothing else to do but to try. She is sitting naked in the library now, where I keep all of the important, necessary information neatly organized on shelves.

         “What are you doing here? What are you doing everywhere? Why won’t you leave?” I ask, making sure to use a firm tone of voice that demands an answer.

         The Woman simply smirks, standing up and heading towards me. She stands in front of me, gazing into my eyes for a moment before wrapping her arms around me. Her only answer is her naked body pressed against me in an incredibly intimate, but not necessarily sexual manner.

         I stutter. I falter. I finally form a coherent sentence when she lets go of me. “Why is this necessary? And furthermore, why don’t you ever speak to me?”

         “I don’t always need to speak to make an impression,” The Woman replies, smiling. “But it seems I’ve already made enough of an impression on you already if I’m allowed to roam the halls of your mind palace as I please.”

         I scowl. “I never said you were allowed anywhere in here.”

         “Well, it seems your subconscious did. The doors opened for me, and nothing has forced me out,” she points out.

         I give an annoyed huff of breath. “I’m here to force you out,” I state.

         “You’re not doing a very good job,” she replies with a playful smirk. “Try harder if you really want me out.”

         I glare at her. “I shouldn’t have to try harder to get you out of my head. You ought to leave on your own. Most people do.”

         The Woman chuckles. “Oh, but you forget that this is your mind, not a real palace, Mister Holmes.”

         “I do not!” I protest. How could I forget that this is my mind? If one forgets their own mind, they must be even more of an idiot than most people, or absolutely mad.

         “Yes you do,” she insists. “If you realized that it was your mind, you’d know that people don’t just leave. You stop thinking about them because you no longer feel the need to. However, those who are largely a part of your life tend to linger.”

         I shake my head. “You’re wrong. That would imply that you’re largely a part of my life. I only met you once, then beat you, then saved you from certain death, and I haven’t seen or contacted you since, so why must you linger? Irene Adler, why won’t you get out of my head?”

         Irene smirks again. “Hmm, let me see. Shall I make a few deductions of my own? I run through your head constantly, and you can’t seem to shake my memory while you can easily forget about others. Other women don’t enter your thoughts often, but I do. You always picture me naked, never any other way, while others in your little mind palace change clothes and appearance at times. You beat me at my own game, and then saved me when I was to pay the price of losing.” She cups the side of my face in her hand. “Dear me, Mister Holmes, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were in love.”

         I back away, shaking my head immediately. “No. No. Wrong. That’s ridiculous. I don’t love people. I don’t love any man or woman. I don’t love anyone.”

         “Mmm, true, but I’m not just any woman, now, am I?” Irene says, smiling.

         I turn away, shaking my head slowly. I turn back, and she’s gone. Finally, gone. I come out of my mind palace, sitting on the couch in my flat with my violin beside me. I feel compelled to play to try and forget about what mind-palace-Irene had said. I pick it up to play something, anything, and I find myself playing the song I composed to grieve for Irene when I thought she was dead. I stop playing immediately, and practically throw my violin down in disgust. How am I supposed to forget about her when I can’t escape her in my mind palace or in reality?

         I stand and walk away from my violin. I can find something else to do that doesn’t involve The Woman. Suddenly, I stop, compelled to open the drawer I keep her old phone in. _No, no, forget about that. Forget about her. She doesn’t matter anymore._  Despite my thoughts, I head towards the drawer and open it, removing the phone that started everything. I turn it on, and am almost surprised that it still works. The screen still reads ‘I AM _ _ _ _ LOCKED’. I type in the password just to see the screen complete again. ‘I AM SHER LOCKED’. _She was indeed,_  I think to myself. _Hopelessly ‘Sherlocked’. Unable to get me out of her head. That was her weakness._

          _But was it really?_  another part of my mind quips that is surely my mind-palace-Irene. _If it was, then how do you feel about having the same weakness?_

         I think about this for a moment. Could it be that I really am developing her weakness? Could it be that I’m just the tiniest bit in love? _No,_  the logical part of my mind says firmly. Another part of my mind has a different opinion, however. _Is love really that much of a disadvantage when it’s no longer mutual? Just look at Mary and John. They’re the strongest couple I’ve ever seen. They can accomplish quite a lot together, for normal people. Just think of what Irene and I could be if we were-_   _No! No, no, no, you have no reason to think of love. Love is a dangerous disadvantage. Sentiment is a chemical defect found in the losing side._  I bicker with myself like this for a good while. Sometimes I can hear Mycroft or John chime in inside my head, and often times Irene’s voice tells me to accept that I’m in love with her. After a while, I can’t take it anymore. It sounds like there is a crowd of people in my mind palace.

         “SHUT UP!” I cry, my yell echoing in the empty flat. Finally, there is silence. Or, rather, I am aware of the silence around me. I stare at the phone once more. ‘I AM SHER LOCKED’. Proof that her life practically revolved around me. She couldn’t get me out of her head, and maybe she still hasn’t. And now that I think about it… I really am developing the same problem. She won’t leave my mind. She is ‘Sherlocked’. I am ‘Irene-Addled’. I chuckle to myself. It sounds ridiculous, but it fits. I turn her old phone off, and put it back into the drawer, taking out my own phone instead. Despite being under a witness protection program all the way in the United States and distancing herself from all people she had known, she got a new phone and gave me her number. I scroll down my contacts and select her. Love or not, seeing her again would certainly be better than being plagued by her mentally, and it would give me something to do. She’s not just any woman. She can surely provide me with some source of entertainment.  I smile, my mind finally made up.

         I’m coming to America. Let’s have dinner. -SH

 

**Author's Note:**

> I'd just like to say that I've wanted to use the phrase 'Irene-Addled' with 'Sherlocked' for ages. X3 That's all. Hope you enjoyed.


End file.
